Together We Bleed
by tvkeshi
Summary: Future Arc. Taken captive, Takeshi and Hayato are pushed past their limits. Beaten and broken. How deep do their loyalties run?
1. Chapter 1

Water pooled across the bottom of their cells, a reminder that there was more to the world than their prison.

They sat with their knees tucked to their chests in a desperate attempt to remain dry.

Takeshi absentmindedly picked at the scab covering a rather deep cut on his chin. The small movement pulled at the skin of wounds that were yet to heal. He suppressed a flinch that would have done more harm than good.

Violent splashing followed by nonsensical screaming echoed through the darkness. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"…Gokudera-kun?" Takeshi called hesitantly.

"It wasn't me," the familiar voice sounded from the cell across from his.

Releasing a relieved sigh, he opened his eyes.

Takeshi prided himself on being the pillar of support for his friends, but there, in the darkness, no one would know if his smile slipped and his shoulders fell.

When he was younger, Hayato took great pride in his music. The steady rhythm of the metronome, the fluid stream of notes played by practiced hands; he would lose himself to the melody.

His bombs were much like his music. The explosions followed the rhythm of battle and he applied them with calculated ease; he would lose himself to the fight.

Now he was losing himself to the pain.

Over and over his captor sliced away his flesh asking the same question over and over again.

"Where is Vongola Decimo?"

And although he could feel his cynical grasp of reality slipping out of sight, his will remained steadfast.

"Do you ever regret it?" Takeshi asked suddenly.

Without answering, he continued on his train of thought, "Before Tsuna, my greatest dream was to be on the national team," he chuckled. "I can't help but think about how I could have been out on the field instead of being locked up down here."

"How dare you-you treacherous scum! Juu-"

"But," he interrupted the bomber's tirade, "even now, I would rather die here than go back to that life."

"We're not dying here, baseball-idiot! The tenth wouldn't just leave us here to rot!"

Takeshi felt a small smile creep onto his lips at Hayato's unwavering loyalty; but his voice lacked the conviction that was once present.

They had both come to accept the possibility that they wouldn't get out alive.

It had nothing to do with a lack of loyalty; in fact, the thought that Tsuna wasn't looking for them didn't even cross their minds.

It had everything to do with-

His train of thought halted abruptly as footsteps echoed through the prison disrupting the water in their wake.

 _Him._

As the man approached his cell, followed by his lackeys, the lights flickered on, momentarily blinding him.

The door of his cell creaked open; Takeshi steeled his nerves and set his jaw.

"Vongola Rain, for your sake, I hope you are more forthcoming than your partner."

His jailor wore a pristine white suit and a pleasant smile, his blond hair slicked back.

The last thing he heard was a hesitant voice calling his name.

"Takeshi?"

"Where is Vongola Decimo?"

Blind, he was unsuspecting of the blow to his cheek.

Chains were wrapped tightly around his wrists before he was forced to stand. Takeshi trashed violently against the hands trapping him, but it was fruitless. He was too tired, too weak to resist.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try.

Before he had time to react, he was in the air.

Screaming as he was suspended by his wrists and grounded by the ropes at his feet.

The rest was a mixture of red and black.

A blur of questions thrown between lashes.

By the time he was released, he could make no sound and move no muscle.

Hayato was woken suddenly when his cell door was flung open and a body was flung towards him. He was instantly on his feet, catching the body before it hit the wet ground.

He didn't know how long it had been since he had seen Takeshi – hell, he didn't know how long it had been since he had seen his own reflection – but even in the darkness, he knew he wasn't smiling.

Cradling his friend's tattered form, he managed to lift him onto the musty old cot. Doing his best with the lack of light and lack of supplies, Hayato did his best to stop the bleeding of the deepest marks. By the time he was done, his shirt was in tatters and his pants were soaked, but Takeshi was no longer in danger of bleeding out.

Hayato curled himself around the unconscious teen, careful as to not disrupt him further, and for the first time since he was a child, Hayato cried.

They started as silent tears but his attempts to contain them only caused his tears to turn into sobs. Full body shaking sobs.

This was his last straw.

And he knew it was done on purpose.

Why else would they return Takeshi to his cell?

It was then he came to the realization that they were going to die.

Only their bodies would be rescued.

Takeshi was warm, which was highly unusual given the circumstances.

Memories of red and black flashed behind his closed lids.

The warmth shifted.

He tensed forcing himself back against the wall, the pain causing him to cry out.

Takeshi could sense someone coming closer to him.

A calloused hand gently rested on his cheek, "Hey, it's just me." Startled, he flinched back smacking his head against the stone wall, but the hand came back, "Open your eyes, Takeshi."

The rough voice was familiar.

"Gokudera-kun…" heI barely recognized the raspy voice as his own.

"It's alright, Takeshi, just open your eyes."

He could see.

Relatively speaking.

Takeshi could barely make out Hayato's face but he was there; he was no longer alone.

"-my clothes?"

"Gone. They brought you back like that."

He groaned as he rolled back onto his stomach.

"Stop moving, baseball-idiot! Do you want to bleed out?!"

He chuckled but his face was stone.

"If I did, would you patch me up again?"

The silence was pregnant as they lay with their eyes locked.

"Of course, baseball-idiot. But I only had one shirt!"

"Takeshi, Gokudera-kun. Say my name again."

"Why should I?"

"Please, Hayato."

The moment his name rolled off Takeshi's lips, Hayato understood.

"…Takeshi."

Sometime during their slumber, someone had slipped a tray of food into their cell. As he was already soaked, Hayato splashed across the room to grab the soggy food.

It was nearly inedible.

What hadn't been soaked of the bread was stale and what Hayato thought was supposed to be oatmeal looked more like vomit than actually food.

"We're not getting out of here are we?"

Takeshi swallowed, "Hayato…"

"We're going to die here, aren't we?" Takeshi didn't respond. "Aren't we?!"

In the low light, Hayato could barely make out the slump of the other's shoulders and the weariness in his eyes, but it was still there.

It was then he knew.

Without a word, he rested his head against an uninjured portion of Takeshi's neck and closed his eyes.

"Kufufufu. Someone's looking worse for wear."

Takeshi raised his head from where he had been leaning against the wall.

He blinked, "M-Mukuro?"

The only response was a loud splash near the front of the cell. Blaming the event on exhaustion, he returned to his previous position.

Their world was crumbling.

The ceiling was falling down in chunks.

The screams of their fellow prisoners were washed out by the explosions overhead.

The lights flickered on and sirens blared.

Hayato was violently pulling at the bars of their cell and just barely moved fast enough to avoid being crushed then the wall gave way.

As they stumbled through their prison, those still behind bars reached out for them, pleading for rescue.

They didn't even turn their heads.

Hayato was close to collapsing, they had been walking for god knows how long and Takeshi was a lot heavier than he looked.

"Hayato?"

He grunted.

"Hayato, ju-"

"Don't you dare give me any of that self-sacrificing bullshit!"

He stumbled and nearly dropped the other.

"If we go down, we go down together."

Ducking and weaving and ducking and weaving.

Unknown familgia members raced about the facility above their prison.

Bullets swept past them one after another.

Fueled by adrenalin, they ran.

But they couldn't fight back.

All energy was directed towards escaping.

Hayato fell to his knees with bruising force.

He screamed.

Takeshi managed to crawl over to him. Hayato was bleeding from several wounds where the bullets had swept past him.

They were free.

But they couldn't get up.

They were tired.

Too tired.

"Hey Takeshi..."

"Hayato…"

"I really want a cigarette."

Tsuna clutched the sword as he bowed his head. By some stroke of luck, Mukuro had managed to find the missing guardians' possessions.

The battle was over and the pair was assumed dead.

He didn't know how he was going to explain the situation to those left behind in the past.

Tsuna had failed them.

He had failed his famiglia.

It wouldn't happen again.

It couldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Years After the Return to the Past**

He aligned the crosshairs of his sights before marking his target.

[I have you covered, T.]

He took a breath at the nod of his partner.

He danced through the shadows soundlessly. The target was an information broker by the name of Leonardo de Rosa. Initially he was to be taken out covertly – poison in his wine. However, he had made a point of publicly denouncing the famiglia leading to a loss of territory in Rome and the deaths of several associated.

A statement needed to be made.

A warning needed to be given.

The Vongola doesn't tolerate traitors.

So, Nono sent in La Norte Nera.

He was swift, he was silent, he was seductive.

But, most of all, he was deadly.

Reborn had been right all those years ago.

He was a savant.

Yamamoto Takeshi was a natural born assassin.

Four men stood guard outside Leonardo de Rosa's office.

Takeshi stalked forward giving them just enough time to draw their guns before he struck.

With deft hands, he unsheathed the tantos that hung at his waist.

Hayato sat with his rifle pointed out of the dingy motel room; it had been twenty minutes since Takeshi infiltrated the de Rosa's hideout – a dingy little hovel above what, until recently, had been the city's most profitable brothel.

He clicked his tongue before eyeing his watch for the eighth time that minute. He hated missions like this. Loathed them even.

Hayato was not a patient man, never had been, and probably never would be – not to say he hadn't matured in the time they had been away. Needless to say, being back-up was not his idea of a fun time.

But, he wasn't one for delicate work.

Sure it would have made a statement if he had gone and blown the place to bits. However, much to his dismay, Nono wasn't one for needless destruction.

Contrary to the belief of those who scorned him, Takeshi did not live for the kill.

Was he good at it? Yes.

Did he enjoy it? Occasionally.

But did he live for it? No.

While most people their age were studying for entrance exams and dating, they were buried so deep in the underworld they would never see the light again.

While most people their age were still forging their paths for the future, they had already devoted their lives to a cause.

So no, Takeshi didn't live for the kill.

The familgia always came first.

The Sky came first.

Tsunayoshi came first.

de Rosa was a wiry man, with barely enough hair to cover the sides of his head. The man reeked of the faux Cubans he smoked and the burnt coffee he drank.

It was a quick hit, one of the easiest his partner had taken as of yet.

Hayato packed away his rifle with a smirk.

Despite having a violent streak in his youth, Nono was a decent man.

Decent.

He was a mafia boss and he had his moments.

However, he was the reason Takeshi and Hayato were still alive.

When they had returned from their last assignment in Padua, a letter sealed with Sky Flames was waiting on their rickety table.

It only read the time and the date.

Coyote had met the pair at their flat and had driven them to the Vongola mansion where they were meeting Nono.

Timoteo crossed his hands on his desk as he waited for the young guardians to make their way up to his office.

They boasted more resilience then he had ever seen in children so young. No, they weren't children anymore. They hadn't been since before they had been transported to the mansion two years prior.

"They're leaving soon, aren't they boss?" the youngest of his guardians, his lightning, Ganauche, had taken a liking to the gentle rain and the abrasive storm that followed.

Timoteo nodded, "It is time for them to return to their true sky."

Narrowing his eyes, Hayato nervously tugged at the sleeve of his blazer.

"Are you serious?" he hissed.

Under normal circumstances, Takeshi would have corrected his hotheaded partner, but in this instance he too could feel his hands itching in anticipation.

"You're flight is booked at 1600 a week from today."

No further discussion was held as they were dismissed with a wave of a hand.

"Ne, Hayato. What if he doesn't want us?"

Takeshi had his hand on the doorknob ready to leave.

Hayato froze from where he was tucking his gun into his waistband.

He would be lying if he were to say the question had never crossed his mind; but he had been desperately trying to avoid the answer.

He didn't know what he would do.

All they had gone through, all they had trained for, all they had endured had been for him.

If their sky abandoned them…

"I – I don't. I can't," he met the Rain Guardian's eyes, "Takeshi…"

Hayato gave a pained whine.

…the consequences were too painful to even contemplate…


	3. Chapter 3

"We're finally back, ne Gokudera-kun."

"Since when do you call me that?"

Takeshi dropped the façade and chuckled, "Just trying to get into the spirit of things."

They stood outside the Sawada house waiting for their boss to return.

"Cioassu."

The pair didn't even flinch at the Arcobaleno's sudden appearance.

"Reborn," Takeshi inclined his head in a greeting.

The baby tilted his fedora so it cast a shade over his eyes, "Where have you been?"

"It took a bit longer than expected to get back from the future, that's all," Takeshi laughed in his usual happy-go-lucky manner.

Reborn narrowed his eyes at the display, "You were presumed dead."

Hayato scoffed, "What kind of right-hand man would be taken down that easily?!"

The moment he saw them, Reborn could sense the difference in their auras. Their casual stance was deceiving for they were fully aware of their surroundings. The naivety that was once at home in the Rain Guardian's eyes had been replaced by the haunted look of a man who had faced death and barely survived the encounter. Hayato's body language had become less exaggerated and he moved with calculated ease. His eyes too were those of a man who had been through hell.

Tsuna's hyper-intuition had been haywire since they had returned from the future; since he lost two of his guardians. The day they returned, he swore to himself that he would protect his familgia with his life, even if it meant he would have to accept the mantle of Vongola Decimo.

He and Chrome were on their return from school when he saw them.

Reborn stood on the fence outside his house speaking with two familiar faces.

His gloves were instantly on his hands as he approached the trio.

"Juudaime!"

"Tsuna!"

"How dare you?" he hissed his eyes narrowed and fists raised. "Drop the illusion!"

Chrome jumped in front of him assuming a defensive stance.

"It's not an illusion, boss."

"Reborn!"

The baby jumped onto Takeshi's head, "Calm down, dame-Tsuna."

Chrome was crying and Tsuna was furious.

On the other side of the table sat Takeshi and Hayato.

Nana was out with the kids, so they had the entire house to themselves.

"How did you get that scar?" Of all the things that could have been said, that was what Tsuna chose.

Takeshi ran his fingers over the mark on his chin.

 _"How much longer can you hold out? Sooner or later you'll give in."_

 _"Now tell me, where is the Vongola Decimo?"_

He suppressed a shiver at the memory and instead rubbed the back of his head and laughed. "I fell."

"If you can't tell me, than don't. But don't lie to me, Yamamoto."

Taken aback, Takeshi slowly lowered his hand and dropped his smile. Hayato leaned forward, his hair shielding his expression, "Forgive me Juudaime. I don't deserve to call myself your right-hand man."

"Gokudera."

Takeshi bowed his head as well neither of them looking their boss in the eyes.

"Yamamoto-kun."

Tsuna took in a shaky breath and released a heavy sob.

"You're alive,"

"Thank god you're alive."

They raised their heads to look at the brunet.

He had grown in their absence; no longer was he Dame-Tsuna, he was Vongola Decimo and it showed.


End file.
